"So," said Wendy. "Where to begin? How do we get Dipper, Mabel and the Stans back?"

They had all agreed to meet at the Shack the following day. Soos' grandma, bless her heart, was making breakfast for everyone. Melody offered to help, only to be passive-aggressively ousted from the kitchen. Abuelita tended to be territorial when the place was concerned; as such, Melody wisely chose to back away from this battle.

Soos' girlfriend was sitting next to him, sipping her tea. They had given her a quick rundown of the events of last summer (Soos had been all too happy to make appropriate sound effects when they had described the Shacktron's battle with Bill's minions). Melody still looked a bit… shaken by what she had heard. Soos was grateful that she hadn't run out of the house screaming.

"Well, there's Dr. Pines' portal, of course," Soos said. "I know we stripped it for parts to make the Shacktron but I'm sure we can repair it. Right, Mr. McGucket?"

The old man was sitting with his knees propped up. He jammed his hat on his head, clearly uncomfortable now that everyone was looking at him expectantly.

"Ah can't say," McGucket mumbled. "Maybe if we had the original blueprints…"

Soos' spirits sank. "The journals, you mean? But we threw 'em in the bottomless pit, dude!"

"Good riddance," McGucket muttered, sounding unusually spiteful.

"Ugh!" cried Pacifica. "You're telling me you can convert a house into a giant robot in three days, but you can't repair something you've helped to build? What kind of mad scientist are you?"

"Don't bully him, Pacifica!" said Candy.

"Punchin' a hole through the fabric of reality's not as easy as it looks, missy!"

"It's not easy," said Pacifica, "but it's not impossible either, isn't it?"

"Of course it's not impossible," said Wendy. "Stan did it, and he was on his own the whole time. He didn't have any fancy instructions to guide him either."

Before anyone could answer, Abuelita peered into the living room. "Breakfast's ready. Anyone wants to help set up the table?"

"I'll do it," Melody said, following Soos' grandmother to the kitchen.

"Me too!" Soos said, jumping out of his chair. As he reached Melody's side, he asked, brows furrowing, "Y-You okay? You don't find all of this too weird, do you?"

Melody sighed. "I'd be lying if I said I'm not freaking out a little. I mean, I got used to seeing a gnome or two, but not, like…"

"Dimensional tears ripping the very fabric of existence," Soos completed. His lower lip wobbled. "I-I'm sorry about all of this. I mean, I'd get it if you… well, if you wanted to…"

"Wanted to what?" Melody smiled, putting a hand over his cheek. "Oh, honey… I'm not leaving, if that's what you're afraid."

Her words lifted a weight off Soos' shoulders. He looked at her with watery eyes, making her laugh in response.

"C'mon," she said, pushing him forward. "Let's feed your partners in mischief. I bet you'll all have a big day ahead of you."

Later on, McGucket asked to be brought to the basement lab.

The old man seemed jumpier than usual as Soos led everyone through the passage behind the vending machine. Sometimes it was easy to forget that McGucket had been involved in building the place. Often, he would stop and stare at some contraption, muttering to himself. On other occasions, he would wipe the dust from the levers and monitors, a wistful look forming on his face.

Wendy studied their surroundings with a raised eyebrow, sometimes offering a quip about Dr. Pines' supervillain lair sense of aesthetics. Candy and Grenda seemed barely able to contain their excitement (the place did look like something out of a movie, after all), but Pacifica remained tense, jumping at every shadow.

Finally, they reached the portal room. It was messier than Soos remembered, with metallic parts and gizmos aplenty littering the place. Soos winced as he noticed the state of these components; someone seemed to have taken their rage on them with a giant hammer.

"Huh," McGucket said. "Well, this is worse than Ah thought…"

"So?" Pacifica prompted. "Can you pull it off or not?"

McGucket inspected a larger structure, kicking at it. It was bent in several places, with wires sticking out. "Fer one, the hyperdrive's busted. We'll need parts ta replace it. Not ta mention, we'll need fuel ta power the portal…"

Wendy folded her arms across her chest. "So, what d'you need, McGucket? Whatever it is, we'll get it."

"Nuclear waste," McGucket said. "Tha's one thing."

"Wait, what?" said Wendy.

"Ah guess we can always raid the UFO crash site fer parts, too," McGucket continued, completely ignoring the slack-jacked looks everyone was giving him.

"The UFO what now?!" Soos said, in half a wheeze. "Y-You mean t-that there's…"

"A friggin' UFO crashed in Gravity Falls?" Wendy said at the same time. "And no one ever told us?!"

"Ah just didn't remember about it before." McGucket scratched his beard. "Besides, Ah thought Stanferd woulda shown the place to you kids. Sounds like his idea of a fun place ta visit."

"This is crazy," Pacifica said. "And so, so stupid. This is real life, not some bad nerd movie! UFOs don't exist!"

"Well, they do, apparently," Wendy said. "This is Gravity Falls, what did you expect?" Seeing that no one else was speaking, she added, "I guess we should split into teams. One to raid the crash site, the other to get the fuel for the portal."

"Mr. McGucket, you know where the crash site is, don't you?" Candy asked. "Maybe you should lead the first team."

"Do Ah remember?" McGucket said, sounding deep in thought. "Ah guess with enough wanderin' about, Ah'd eventually recall where it was… pro'bly."

"That's good enough for me," said Wendy. "What about the nuclear waste? I bet Stan didn't exactly use conventional means to get the stuff."

"There's a dumpin' site used by the gov'ment nearby!" McGucket said brightly, like it was a fun place to visit.

Wendy grinned. "Stealing from the suits. Now there's a plan I can get behind. I bet Stan has still some gear lying around that I can use…"

"I'm not stealing stuff from the government!" Pacifica said.

"Have fun in the UFO with McGucket, then," Wendy said. "What about you girls?"

"I'm all for sticking it to the man!" Grenda said enthusiastically, while Candy added, "It's like you said, Wendy! We take what we want!"

Wendy gave them two thumbs' up. "Nice to see you took my wise words to heart."

"So I guess I'm on team UFO, then," Soos said.

Pacifica groaned and rolled her eyes. Funnily enough, this time it was McGucket who gave her a light swat on the arm.

"Ah'll be glad to have ya aboard, pal!" McGucket said. "How 'bout we talk about giant robot anime on the way?"

"Great idea, dawg!" Soos said, moving his hand to share a brofist with McGucket. The old man hesitated for a moment, before slapping Soos' fist with his open palm, face split in a wide grin.

"Oh my god," Pacifica groaned, holding her head in her hands. "Is it too late to change teams?"

"You want out, Northwest?" Wendy said with a wry grin.

Pacifica's cheeks grew pink. "O-Of course not."

Soos brought his hands together, eyes filling with happy tears. "It's happening, dudes! We're like, a team now! We need a name, you guys!" He thought for a moment. "Oh, oh, we could be the 'Awesome Team to Save Stan and the twins and I guess Ford too'!"

"Pass," Pacifica said with narrowed eyes.

"We could be…" McGucket gave a dramatic pause before saying, "the Matsu Senshi Tachi!"

"Good one, Mr. McGucket!" said Soos. "I dunno what it means, but it sure sounds cool!"

"What about the Pines Rescue Squad?" Candy proposed.

"I vote for that one," said Wendy. "Short, sweet, just badass enough for our needs."

"Alright!" Soos held his hand forward. "C'mon, dudes!"

Candy, Grenda and McGucket understood his intent perfectly, putting their hands over his. Wendy snorted before joining them. Pacifica crossed her arms, face twisted into a scowl. Finally, she relented, placing her hand just above Wendy's.

"Pines Rescue Squad," Soos said, injecting as much determination as he could in his voice, "move out!"

Everyone (save for Pacifica, who groaned) cheered loudly as they threw their hands in the air.

When Ford opened his eyes again, it was to realize he'd been drooling all over his brother's shoulder.

"Good morning, nerd," Stan said dryly. "You talk in your sleep, by the way."

Ford pulled away, adjusting his glasses as he squinted at his twin. "I thought I told you to wake me to take the second shift."

"Eh. You actually looked like you were resting, for a change. I think I managed to get some shut-eye too. Kind of a miracle with all the mumbling that you did."

The twins were stirring as well. Mabel yawned, stretching like a cat. Her brother muttered something, pulling Stan's coat over his head.

Mabel looked at her uncles drowsily. "Good morning, you two. Did you sleep well?"

"Well," said Ford, "all things considered—" He stopped as he heard the telltale creak of a door being opened. "Quick! Get your heads down!"

Stan was halfway through a curse when Ford shoved him face first in the straw. Thankfully, the children hid the moment they heard Ford's hissed command.

With slow, careful movements, Ford got to his feet, grabbing his laser gun. Keeping low, he headed toward the entrance. The intruder had their back to him, and they were rummaging through a large packsack.

"Hands where I can see them," Ford said, aiming his gun. He heard a little whirring sound coming from his wrist as his universal translator started converting his threat in the local language.

The person stood up with a yelp, before turning toward Ford. "Wha… wha?! Who're you?!"

Ford nearly sighed in relief; he hadn't been sure the gizmo was still in working order. Instead, he said, "Put your hands over your head."

The man grabbed something at the ground before whirling on his feet. Ford was met with the three prongs of a pitchfork. He stifled an urge to roll his eyes and sigh.

Instead, he inspected the man before him. Four eyes stared back at him in astonishment. It was hard to tell in the purple gloom, but the man's skin appeared to be blue. He also wore a tattered cloak over equally threadbare clothes, and various knickknacks stuck out of his pockets.

Despite the gun pointed at his face, the man didn't seem afraid, only annoyed. "You got some moxie, invading my place. Those are my ruins, y'know. I found them first! I'm the only one allowed to scavenge stuff here!"

"What does he want?" said a voice from behind. Out the corner of his eye, Ford saw Stan advancing carefully, the children half-hidden behind him. In their oversized coats, they looked like walking burritos. "You understand what he's sayin', Sixer?"

"More trespassers!" the four-eyed man said. "I oughta—" He frowned, looking from Ford to Stan in quick succession. "What… how? There's two of you?!"

"He's my twin," Ford said, brows furrowing.

"Your what?"

Ford didn't answer. Perhaps his translator needed some fine-tuning. "It's not important. We didn't mean to startle you. There's no need for violence, really. If you lower your weapon, then I'll lower mine." He wasn't too keen on the idea of frying the brains of an alien hobo in front of his thirteen-year-old niece and nephew.

"You first!"

"For crying out loud," Ford muttered. He lowered his gun, keeping a close eye on the man in front of him. To his relief, the pitchfork went down as well, though the man's face was still twisted in a scowl.

"How about some payment, huh?" he said. "Since I've, uh, let you crash at my place, all nice and stuff?"

"What is he yammering about, bro?" Stan said, almost at the same time. "Care to fill us in?"

Ford made a little sound of irritation. "He wants us to give him something. For staying the night here."

"Really? What is he, nuts? Place ain't exactly a five-star hotel."

"I have something you might accept, oh noble wanderer," Mabel said, coming forward to show the man her wristwatch. It was pink, with cutesy cartoon kittens sticking out their tongues. "This is a family heirloom, passed to my mother from my grandmother and from her mother before that. It will be a great sacrifice to part from it, but alas! The safety of my family comes first!"

Both of her uncles looked at her as if she had grown another head. Still, Ford translated what she said word by word.

"Oh, yes!" said Dipper. "A great, um, talisman to ward against evil spirits, this is! How many times has it saved our skins, dear sister?"

"Too many to count, brother, too many!"

The man snatched it from her hands the moment Ford completed his translation. All four of his eyes shone with greediness. "Yes, yes… this looks like it could fetch a pretty sum…"

"Do you accept our, um, offering?" Ford said.

In response, the man shoved Mabel's watch into his bag. Taking his pack in hands, he threw Ford a wary look. "It's fine for one night. But don't come back. It's my place, I found it first."

"We get it," Ford said, fighting the urge to clock the man in the teeth. "Let's go, everyone."

He kept a close eye on the guy as Stan herded the twins out of the barn. The man held on to his packsack like it was full of precious gems, scowling all the while. Ford wouldn't have been surprised if he'd started hissing like a cat.

Outside, the sky was a dark purple, the moons and stars bathing everything in their silver light. Ford frowned, looking at his watch. More than ten hours had passed since they had arrived here. Perhaps the night and day cycle was different on this planet; it wouldn't be the first time Ford had experienced such a thing, after all.

When they were out of hearing range of the four-eyed man, Ford put a hand over his niece's shoulder. "That was some good thinking, Mabel. I'm sorry that you had to give him your watch. It seemed precious to you."

"Pff." Mabel wiggled her eyebrows. "I got it from a cereal box."

"Ford!" Stan exclaimed, giving their niece the syrupiest of expressions. "Lookit them! They're growing before our eyes! I'm so proud!"

Ford chuckled. "Any responsible adult would be worried to see them taking after you."

"Responsible?" Mabel gave another scoff.

"Yeah," added Dipper, "not a word I usually associate with you guys."

Ford's tensions eased a bit as Stan and the kids exchanged more light banter. His stomach grumbled, and he rummaged through his pockets to find something to eat. He had some protein bars and a few trail mixes, but not much else.

Ford shared his findings with his family as they made their way toward the city. Watching the children scarf down their meagre breakfast, he made a note to find more food. A good part of Ford's dimension-hopping years had been devoted to the search of his next meal. It was a part of his travels that he had kept from Stan and the twins in most of his retellings.

Then again, Ford's mind added treacherously, Stanley had probably learned that lesson early as well.

They finally reached the bottom of the valley. While the hills had only been lit by starlight, several streetlamps illuminated the town, making up for the absence of the sun. Before they entered the city, Ford held up his hand.

"We must remain cautious," he told Stan and the children. "I don't think the appearance of that hovercraft right after our arrival spells anything good."

"You think someone might be after us?" Dipper said.

"It's a possibility," Ford replied. "Keep your eyes peeled. And let me do the talking, please."

"Hey, you're the one with the translator gizmo," said Stan. "The translator gizmo that you should patent, y'know. For the sake of science, of course."

Ford quirked a brow, showing him just what he thought of such an idea. "Let's just keep going."

They made their way across one of the canals surrounding the city. The children's faces lit up in amazement as they found themselves in a lively, noisy marketplace. The twins' senses must have been bombarded by a multitude of new sounds and smells—voices speaking in languages never heard by human ears, delicious meals never tasted by human mouths, spicy scents never experienced by human noses... Ford found himself smiling, remembering the feeling all too well.

Most of the market-goers were of the same humanoid, multi-eyed species as the man they had met earlier. Still, Ford was relieved to see all sorts of people around him; the town had its share of furred or scaled citizens, and Ford spied a fair number of pincers and tentacles as well.

The city was obviously a hub for dimensional travellers. That significantly upped their chances to find a way home.

As they went deeper into the market, Stan started to grin widely as well. There was a childlike wonder to his expression, one that reminded Ford of boyhood days spent pretending they were great adventurers. It was a relief that his brother didn't speak the local language. The last thing they needed was for Stan to get into a shouting match with a merchant over the price of their wares.

Still, Stan's smile began to sour as Ford tried his hand at bartering. None of the merchants were willing to accept their various trinkets (Mabel's phone charm, Dipper's chewed-up pens, even Stan's fake gold chain) in exchange for something to eat or drink. After more than a few unsuccessful attempts, Ford was almost ready to let his brother loose on those poor unsuspecting bastards, consequences be damned.

"So," Dipper eventually asked Ford, "no luck, huh?"

"I can always hunt something for us to eat," Ford said. The children made weird faces at this perfectly adequate suggestion.

Stan immediately recoiled. "Ugh, no. I've already had enough of your weird culinary experiments on the boat. Pass."

"No way!" said Mabel. "I don't want you killing alien Bambi!"

"Would it be acceptable if the animal wasn't cute?" Ford asked, slightly dumbfounded.

"No!"

"Alright, then," said Ford. "You'd be surprised by the number of extra-dimensional creatures that taste just like chicken, you know."

The hours went by, and the market grew more crowded. Ford kept an eye out in case they were being followed. He kept thinking about that hovercraft, cursing that he hadn't been able to get a good look at their pursuers. Who were the people chasing them? Why were they after Ford and his family?

At least, the children remained in such good spirits. Dipper and Mabel were obviously having the time of their lives experiencing this brave new world. Ford's only regret was that he could not buy them all the souvenirs he could possibly carry back to their dimension. It had been strange to discover how much he loved to spoil them after thirty years of living in forced frugality. Then again, he owed them thirteen years' worth of birthday presents.

Mabel had made quite the high-pitched screech when she'd caught sight of some alpaca-like animals tied to a stand. They spent a good thirty minutes in uncomfortable silence as she petted the creatures. Ford managed to convince the stall-keeper to give his niece a ball of multicoloured yarn... by making sad eyes at her while Stan wasn't looking.

Now that Mabel's souvenir was secured, Ford began to search for something for her brother. Not long after, he spied the perfect gift for his nephew: a book, one with a beautiful cover made of blue leather. The sight of it made Ford oddly nostalgic.

"Look, my boy," he told Dipper. "Doesn't it look like that journal you started last summer?"

The boy's eyes lit up. "Whoa! You're right, it's the same colour and everything." Dipper's smile turned to a frown. "I guess my journal's stuck home with the rest of my luggage, huh? Bummer. It would have been fun to write about this place."

He reached for the book, but the merchant swatted his hand with one tentacle, letting out what seemed to be a string of insults.

"Ow!" Dipper said, rubbing his reddened skin. "That hurt! I just wanted to take a look inside, you know!"

"Hey!" Stan jabbed a finger at the man tending the stand. "Watch it!"

"Yeah! That's my brother you're hitting, you jerk!"

"You owe the kid an apology, pal!"

In response, the merchant just ranted some more, spittle flying out of his mouth. Stan's face was getting redder by the minute, and he was readying his fists.

"Stanley!" Ford grabbed his brother's arm. "Calm down! It's no use getting in a fight."

"But he was a poophead to Dipper, Grunkle Ford!" said Mabel.

Ford pushed her and Dipper away from the stand. "Let's just go."

Thankfully, the children followed without protest. As such, when several smoke bombs went out from under the stall, they had put a reasonable distance between the screaming shopkeeper and their own sorry skins.

"Run!" said Ford.

"Wait, what?" Stan said as he rushed after Ford. "Where d'you get that?"

"Why do you think I sew so many pockets in all of my coats?"

"Hah!" said Stan. "I knew you weren't as reasonable as you looked! Now you're like the brother I remember!"

Ford grinned as if he'd been given the highest of praises. The brothers were exchanging a high six when the shriek of a siren flared behind them.

"Oops," said Stan. "Is it, like, the alien fuzz or whatever?"

"They sure got here fast!" Dipper said.

Ford frowned. "Too fast." He glanced behind him. A flying barge as big as a car was in hot pursue. Two people in strange masks and robes were pointing at them and shouting, while a third man steered the vehicle.

"Uh, they're gaining on us!" Stan said. "Ford, we gotta do something!"

The market-goers were screaming and jumping out of the way. Ford vaulted over a stall, knocking over the merchandise and earning himself an earful from the owner.

"Let's split!" Ford shouted above the cacophony. "Stan, take the kids and turn left!"

"What?! Sixer, are you crazy?!"

"Just do as he says, Grunkle Stan!" Dipper shouted.

He yelped when Stan grabbed him under one arm, and his sister under the other. With a string of curses, Stan made a sharp turn, leaving Ford to face the incoming hovercraft alone.

Ford jumped on a stand, startling the shopkeeper so much the poor man fell off his feet. One of the men on the barge gave quite the undignified squawk as Ford vaulted over to the hovercraft, kicking him in the process. The man tumbled into a stall containing a selection of caged beasts, causing even more screams and mayhem. Ford turned to his second opponent, evading a punch. In a fluid motion, he caught the man's arm, using the momentum of the punch to throw him overboard as well.

All that remained was the one steering the vehicle. He made a strangely high-pitched noise as Ford stalked over to him. Still, he turned out to be the most troublesome out of the lot. Ford tried to drag him away from the controls, but the man resisted, their strengths equally matched.

There was a sudden splat, and Ford startled, realizing that some sort of tentacled critter had just landed in the man's face. Distantly, he heard Mabel crying out, "Great throw, Grunkle Stan!"

Ford did not waste this opportunity; before the now screaming man could pry the creature off his mask, Ford grabbed him by the front of his robes, yanking him out of the hovercraft.

He didn't have time to gather his breath; the vehicle was still barreling forward at high speed, heading toward a wall. Teeth gritting, Ford grabbed the controls, and there was a terrible screeching sound as he made a sharp turn to avoid a fiery end. The hovercraft came at a lurching stop seconds away from ramming into a stall—and into the poor multi-eyed lady who was tending to it. She was currently busy screaming at the top of her lungs.

Ford heard the children calling out his name. The twins were rushing toward the hovercraft, cheeks flushed in excitement. Ford could not help himself; he grinned and struck (well, what he hoped was) a cool pose.

Dipper and Mabel cheered loudly while Stan groaned.

As he and the children climbed into the vehicle, Ford's brother distinctly muttered, "Show-off."

Rolling his eyes, Ford started the engine. After offering a belated apology to the shrieking stall-keeper, he steered the hovercraft away from her stand.

As they sped out of the market, the twins whooped, laughing all the while. Stan grabbed the railing with one hand and his beanie with the other, face split in a grin.

Ford found himself smiling as well. He cranked up a lever, and the vehicle picked up more speed, to the delight of the children and Stan.

"Pines, Pines, Pines!" the three of them chanted.

Without looking back, they flew out of the city, leaving mischief and mayhem in their wake.

All in all, a pretty typical shopping trip, as far as Ford was concerned.